


Lust

by FortuneCookie001



Series: Writing Prompt Practices [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abstract, Boundaries, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Lust, Mind Palace, Open to Interpretation, Other, Self Prompt, Selfishness, Stream of Consciousness, Writing Exercise, fears, selflessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortuneCookie001/pseuds/FortuneCookie001
Summary: In hopes of doing weekly writing exercises I received a prompt from my friend. "Describe the feeling of lust barging into your mind."Please enjoy my one page response. It can be interpreted as other emotions other than lust, but was originally made with lust in mind. Constructive criticism wanted.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Undisclosed
Series: Writing Prompt Practices [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074491
Kudos: 3





	Lust

**Author's Note:**

> <3 Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening! <3
> 
> My friend that gave me this prompt is the one and only sunrisebeanie, go check them out!!! https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunrisebeanie
> 
> They’re my very best friend and the reason I started posting, pursued my writing skills, and many other wonderful things!! Head over to her stories and poems when you have a minute!
> 
> <3 please enjoy this quick story <3

It started with a small tear. A small intrusion in the carefully crafted walls. They had built on their own many years ago. Layer after layer he protected them. He told himself it was for them. 

It was out of selflessness that he refused to cross that barrier. Out of selflessness that he wandered the edge each day. But was it out of selflessness that he ignored how the wall swayed if he leaned too close. Was it selflessness that allowed him to inch closer each time he walked the edge. 

He couldn’t pretend it was selflessness when he overlooked the infection bleeding through the tear. The walls started to erode from that small opening. He didn’t walk that way anymore on his daily stroll anymore. 

He noticed the change. The way his mind fogged over. The way his foot would falter. The way he couldn’t manage to scorn himself for letting the poison oose past his walls. The way he desperately wished he didn’t want to feel this way. 

He wasn’t protecting them out of selflessness anymore. He was guarding himself. The selfish scent of quilt and desire washed passed the walls now.

It was out of selfishness that he peaked across the barrier. Out of selfishness that he wandered through the thick sludge of commitment and honesty that had melted with the wall. But was it out of selfishness that he always turned back, returning to the side of the wall he had promised to stay on. Was it selfishness that kept him from getting any closer to the truth on the other side.

He couldn’t pretend it was selfishness when he let out a cry of pain. A plea into the thick, distorted, corrupted, poisoned air that he didn’t have to do this. Layer by layer the walls were rebuild. Where a huge river used to flow through, a wall now stood, holding like a dam.

He noticed the change. The way his mind drained of color. The way his knees gave way when the day was finally over. The way he couldn’t decide if it was better off this way. The way he desperately wished he cared enough to find out. 

The wall was shaded and ugly. Tarnished and guilty. He never wandered the edge anymore. He didn’t think they would noticed.

Did they just say? He dragged himself out of his rotting conscious to meet their gaze properly. The look in their eyes. They sounded too honest. They spoke quietly. Each word sounding more like a confession than the last. He listened, letting their description wash over him.

They had a wall too. Theirs was much different than his. It sounded brighter and beautiful. Glowing and appreciated. They didn’t see their wall as a border. An edge to walk on. A thing to be built or destroyed. They smiled again. 

Acceptance. What was on the other side of that wall was not a poison or an infection, but a part of them. 

He watched his wall bend and waver until it was a ghost, letting the waters flow past him and through his mind. It was there with him. And he let the color soak in. This time it wasn’t a sin to lean over the edge of the river. No it was a choice.

And he chose to pull them in close and take a large desperate gulp of the poison that once plagued him. The water only began to remedy his scattered mind when he glanced over to see they were leaning just as desperately over their own river.


End file.
